


There is Love in Heaven (All Will Be Forgiven)

by beautifulboimckinley



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Homophobia, M/M, Multi Chapter, angel au, tbh this au is my baby, theyre still on a mission in Kitguli, wrote on a plane flight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 22:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11587404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulboimckinley/pseuds/beautifulboimckinley
Summary: After a trial under Archangel Blade, Connor McKinley's punishment was decided 9 years later - 2 years looking after a group of ten boys in Kitguli, Uganda, and nightly Hell dreams for the rest of his life. He never expected Kitguli to be so kind to him.





	There is Love in Heaven (All Will Be Forgiven)

"It's ten, people! That means lights out!" He yelled across the hall and stretched out his wings for emphasis, briefly forgetting that the elders couldn't see them. As he realized this, he chuckled to himself and sheepishly smiled. One by one, the lights began to flicker off in every room but, to Connor's dismay, Price and Cunningham's. 

"You too," He shouted from his bed, "just because you're a prophet it doesn't make you exempt from needing a good night's sleep - so close your eyes and sweet dreams!" 

Elder Price yelled across the hall, "We aren't even part of the church anymore! Why do you CARE about curfew? And Arnold is literally like, the Pope of Kitguli. He can do what he wants, right?" Connor rolled his eyes. When he had chosen the two year banishment to Kitguli over his, well, alternative, he had thought it was vastly better. Now, he wasn't so sure. 

"Listen, I don't care if you're freaking Patti LuPone herself, you are still turning off your lights! It's after ten!" 

After a few seconds, the District Leader heard the click of the light switch and Elder Cunningham's high-pitched giggles. Connor smiled softly - He had to admit that Elder Price's defiance was pretty sweet. It showed his character, after all. And his pretty voice - off. He sighed, stretched and folded his wings, and closed his eyes. As he felt sleep set in, he began to get more and more anxious about the second part of his banishment deal. But he'd rather have whatever he was getting tonight than be charged with avoidance of punishment, so he forced himself to lay still and accept sleep's outstretched hand. 

While Connor slept, he swore that he felt the pressure of a hand grasping his. Somehow he identified the hand as Price's, and a voice cascaded across the room, saying, "I love you." Deep in his gut, he felt a heat that wasn't comforting or calming or content twist and wriggle, and -oh gosh. His deal. His eyelids snapped open, and he watched frozen in horror as an oily black substance travelled from Kevin's heart to his arm to his fingers and climbed onto Connor's palm and up his arm and - oh, how it burned - as he cried out in agony, reaching out to Elder Price for any relief at all, the slight comfort of the pressure on his hand disappeared. 

Kevin disintegrated. And the final noise that echoed through Connor's head was worse than anything else. A soft whisper of "Connor -" before all of Price was gone and McKinley was alone, the sticky burning goop weighing down his wings. He was trapped as the slime crawled up his body, into his mouth, into his throat, into his lungs, and soon his chest, too, was burning from a lack of oxygen. 

He woke up gasping for breath as Poptarts ran a careful hand through his hair and made him a cup of chamomile tea. He wrapped his wings protectively around himself, relishing in the fact that they were free, and they were, as usual, the purest of whites. It was a dream. 

It happened every night. It was always a dream. He reminded himself that this was what he had agreed upon. This was his fault. He had sealed his fate when he had taken a deep breath and confessed, in front of a judge and a jury of his friends from school, like the nice girl with the speckled wings and short hair and the boy with a tooth gap who shoved him when he was working on smooth flying and like Steve. It had taken nine years to decide his punishment. Nine freaking years of escape time. But he didn't try. He was too good for that. He was good. He was - If only, he thought solemnly, it wasn't such a complicated process for an angel to die. 

As Connor sipped his tea, the panic in his belly settled slightly. "Thank you, Elder Poptarts," He plastered a smile on his tear stained face. "I'm sorry for waking you." Then, as an afterthought, he checked his watch. "9:30? Why am I up so late? Poptarts, please tell me they all didn't break the rules..." 

"Oh," Said Poptarts, "They've been up for 3 hours. You were tossing and turning and stuff - we decided to let you sleep." Connor crossed his arms. While the effort was very sweet, the boys had still broken the rules. 

"Whose idea was this?" 

"Uh, Kevin's." Poptarts grinned awkwardly. 

"Tell Elder Price to come speak with me privately." Elder Thomas smirked, and he bristled his feathers out of habit before remembering that he wasn't at home - tears pricked at his eyes at the fact that he was stuck here for two years, but he blinked them away. Being human had its perks, he supposed. Like being around Kevin - off. Did he want another two years of this nightmare? 

He was interrupted from his inner monologue as Kevin opened the door and he crossed his arms in what he hoped was an intimidating manner. 

"Kevin Price, why did you encourage the rest of the elders to let me sleep in? You and I both know that's against the rules." 

"You didn't look ok!" Connor rubbed his temples. 

"I'm fine, Kevin, I'm just a little under the weath -" 

"Which is EXACTLY why I wanted to let you sleep in, Elder McKinley. Just because you're District Leader, you don't have to run yourself to the ground with work. Get some rest! You deserve it." At this, Connor smiled. It almost seemed like Kevin cared about him. 

"Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you something." 

"Yes, Elder Price?" Kevin swallowed audibly and suddenly looked very nervous. 

"Uh - do you think Poptarts would mind if I had a strawberry poptart?" 

"He would mind," Connor laughed, "but he wouldn't do anything." 

"Uh, thanks." Kevin gave a little half-smile and no matter what rules he had broken, McKinley just couldn't stay mad at him. That smile, those eyes - off. Although the smile was distracting, he still could tell that Price was going to say something else - something that didn't involve poptarts. A corner of his mind hoped that it was a confession of a secret love, and his wings flapped excitedly at the thought. 

"Connor," he whispered to himself, "you remember why you're here? Turn it off." Because of Kevin's strange question, the District Leader began to get hungry. He stole a poptart from the pantry as sneakily as he could, but was caught my his companion before he had made his escape from the kitchen. Elder Thomas, though, just gave Connor a sad smile and paid no mind to the half eaten snack in his hand. "Oh gosh," He thought, "they're realizing I'm not ok." 

Deciding to pretend Kevin was right and go with the sickness excuse, Connor stayed at the hut while the rest of the elders left, leaving him alone. At this, he smiled, and with a few pumps of his wings, he was in the air. His smile widened into a grin, and he felt like a carbonated drink fizzing up and up as he excitedly and almost childishly whizzed around the hut. Of all the things he had taken away when he was sent down to Earth, he had probably missed flying the most. Being constantly surrounded by people wasn't the best circumstance for hovering in the air, and he would freak the heck out of the elders. Poor Naba would faint or something! So he was not only grounded from the heavens, but grounded from what made him an angel. 

As he floated through the halls and doorways, he danced to the song in his head. It was an Earth song - it was about love and growing up and learning, from a musical called Spring Awakening. Connor wished he could relate to love and growing up and learning, but spending nine years under basically house arrest left something to be desired of his adolescent years. However much the archangels disapproved, though, there were no laws preventing Connor from consuming human media. So he sung cast recording after cast recording as much as he pleased during those days and months and years alone at his house while he awaited his sentence - at least he still had his music here, he thought, even though he didn't have much else. 

He heard the creak of the rickety door and frantically touched the floor again. 

"Oh! Sister Hatimbi!" 

"Hello, Elder McKinley. I have a list of interested townspeople for you, so you can make some more copies of the Book of Arnold." Connor thanked Naba, and as she left, he tried to get back off the ground, only to realize that his wings were absolutely fatigued. He hadn't flown in 3 months, and then decided to soar all over the building? He groaned as his shoulder blades stung with soreness.

"I'm an idiot," he muttered under his breath as he tried to massage his aching back. 

Connor McKinley decided that a nap would be the best thing for his wings with regret. But as he flopped down on his bed and sleep beckoned him, he gave in almost immediately. 

When he woke up, he was tied to a chair. "Oh," he sighed, "of course." And then the burning sensation erupted in his shoulder blades.

He woke up for real and made sure his wings were still attached to his back, his throat burning and his eyes watery. Under his breath, he let the words roll off his tongue. 

"I hate this Spooky Mormon Hell Dream." He had remembered Kevin saying it in his sleep once while Connor stood nervously by the door holding a warm mug of tea, waiting for him to wake up so he could comfort him the way that Poptarts always comforted McKinley, and it stuck with him. Everything Kevin said stuck with him. 

"Elder McKinley? Are you alright?" Said one of the - oh. it was Elder Price. Elder Kevin Price who couldn't mind his own gosh-darned business. 

"Yes," he mumbled, "I'm fine." 

As Elder Price entered his room with his hair disheveled and a look of concern adorning his face, memories of Steve filled Connor's head. How he had hugged him when he cried and helped him fly when he was too exhausted to flap his wings and how he caressed him with those soft feathers. And he laughed bitterly at the fact that this was all because of Steve. The Hell Dreams, Kitguli, the house arrest, his infamy at home - Wait, no, he reminded himself. It was Connor's fault alone. He had committed the sin, and he was supposed to be God's highest being. All 

Connor cut himself off, turned away from Price, and said sharply, "I am fine. Now go. You have duties to attend to." His voice sounded like it could draw blood. 

"Elder McKinley, you're not ok! You need - you can always tell me the truth." 

"You don't know anything about me, Kevin Price. Nothing at all." Kevin stepped forward. 

"I know that you were crying and that I want you to feel better!" He practically shouted in desperation. 

"And I know," said Connor dryly, "that I want you to leave me alone, because I'm fine." 

"Fine." Kevin slammed the door. 

A tear rolled down his cheek as Connor remembered how Steve had slammed that door without an ounce of sympathy, how he testified against him at the trial, how he never once visited the house where he was imprisoned for almost a decade. How he did what Kevin did. He left Connor alone, with no remorse. How he didn't even acknowledge his "best friend" after the trial was over with. He abandoned him. 

And now Price would do it too, and it was all his fault. 

But as he sobbed into his pillow and his wings folded tight, he heard a cautious knock at the door. 

"Are you sure you're ok?" Connor hesitated for a few seconds. 

"...Come in." Kevin, he decided, was definitely not Steve Blade. As Kevin sat down on the bed and he felt the mattress sink, he let his wings loosen from their tense hold. 

"So, what's going on?"

"Can we not talk?" Price looked down at the comforter. 

"Oh. Sorry." He began to get up from the bed slowly. 

"No - no! Just...stay here?" McKinley asked.

"Of course." He hugged Connor tight, and he didn't look at his face or try to kiss him or find his secrets. He just held him. And it reminded him of one of those Earth songs, but he couldn't place which one. 

Connor wrapped those white feathers protectively around Kevin Price. He knew that he couldn't see or feel them, of course, but he could've sworn that Price held him even closer when the wings touched him. 

"Hey, Elder McKinley?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm always here for you." Connor would've kissed him then and there if it didn't promise him a Falling. And he didn't want to be a Fallen Angel. Not ever. Nights in Hell were bad enough, but all eternity? That's everyone's worst nightmare. But as he was held by Kevin Price, he thought this was better than Heaven, and all memories of Hell disappeared. Maybe, he reckoned, Price was his Heaven. 

"Thank you, Kevin." 

"No problem, Connor." Warmth shot up his spine at hearing Elder Price say his name, and he flinched at the thought. Another dream meant another trial. And that meant Hell. Actual Hell, too, not the dream kind. The very idea made him shudder. 

That night, he doubted that the archangels could control those dreams like they said they could. Because it was full of kissing and cuddling and hand-holding and making out and you-know-what, and when Connor blinked his eyes open to the hot Ugandan sun and his alarm clock serenading him to Popular, he wasn't gasping for air, and his face was flushed for a different reason that usual.

That morning was the day he figured out that the archangels didn't have a single ounce of power over him.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please, please leave a comment with feedback!!! Kudos are also appreciated but i LOVe getting comments :) constructive criticism is encouraged!!!


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